The Sound Of Your Heart

TWENTY-SIX

After Stella's tragic passing, the quietude that enveloped our home was suffocating. The air became heavy with the remnants of grief, tainting each breath we took. Mom, devastated by the loss of her daughter, teetered on the edge of madness, consumed by guilt and anger. She blamed Dad, pointing her trembling finger at him for not being the father Stella needed. But deep down, she couldn't accept the fact that she, too, had played a role in how Stella turned out.
 
And then there was me.
 
I was the daughter who loved pop-rock music, the girl who idolized Avril Lavigne and dressed up just like her. I boasted an unruly mop of hair, a collection of band t-shirts, and a perpetual scowl etched on my face. I was in a constant battle with conformity, resisting the expectations set upon me. In a family defined by tragedy, I became the embodiment of rebellion and defiance.
 
Everything changed after what happened to my sister; my mom was not yet over her obsession. One day when I came home from school, I just went straight into the house, expecting my Mom wouldn't notice me, or worse, just ignore me, just like she usually does when Stella is still alive. But to my surprise, my mother called me by my name from upstairs and was acting like she was excited and happy to see me get home from school. She came downstairs in a hurry and hugged me so tight. It took me a couple of seconds before I could respond. I was nervous and didn't know what to do at that time because everything was new to me and mom hadn't given me that much attention before. She could barely look at me or touch me, yet there she was, embracing me out of the blue.

I was happy because I thought she was finally giving me the love and treatment I deserved from her as her daughter. But I was wrong because,e after that, I was forced to be something I was not. She did to me what she did to Stella, and it is hurting and scaring me to death. My mother's insane, and I think she needs therapy!
 
"M-mom?" I stammered as I saw her standing right in front of the fireplace with a golf club in her right hand. I bet she smashed these broken things scattered around the living room with it.
 
"Stella!" My heart aches as she calls me by my late sister's name with a wide smile on her face as she lets go of the golf club and approaches me, which makes me step away because I feel scared. She's getting worse!
 
I stood frozen, an overwhelming mix of emotions swirling inside me as my mother's words hung in the air. "Oh, my baby, I thought you were gone!"
 
It wasn't the first time she had mistaken me for Stella, my older sister, who had left us years ago. Every time this happened, I couldn't help but feel a searing pain in my heart. It was as if my existence was overshadowed as if I were invisible.
 
I glanced at Mom, her deep blue eyes filled with both relief and anguish. Her hands cupped my face; her touch was warm and familiar. But it wasn't enough to mask the resentment that had begun to fester within me.

"Stella, my poor baby," Mom said with teary eyes and a shaking voice. We were standing in the dimly lit living room, the heavy weight of our loss hanging in the air. The loss of my sister had torn a gaping hole in our hearts, leaving us shattered and vulnerable.
 
I gazed back at my mother, feeling a mix of sadness and confusion. It was as if a storm was raging within her, emotions swirling and clashing, tearing apart whatever remnants of strength she had left.
 
"Stella, my poor baby," she repeated, her voice cracking. But this time, something shifted. Suddenly, her expression changed from depressed to mad, flickering like a flame in the darkness. Anguish gave way to anger, and her grip on my face tightened.
 
"You're not Stella; you're an impostor!" she added her words slashing through the air like a dagger. The force of her accusation pushed me backward, causing me to stumble on the staircase. I caught myself just in time before crashing down the steps, my heart racing with confusion and fear.
 
"Who are you?! What did you do to my daughter?" she yelled once again, her voice filled with anguish. Tears welled up in my eyes, blending with the unease that had settled deep within me. I never wanted to be in this position. I was just an ordinary girl, thrust into an extraordinary situation against my will.
 
A shiver ran down my spine as I looked into her face. "Mom! It's me, Jessie!" I yelled back at her as I pointed myself with my finger, but all I saw was disbelief in her eyes.